Love Me
by chibiukyou
Summary: A spilled drink may lead to more than just a dry cleaning bill for Tatsuha as he meets someone he thought to never meet face to face. RyuxTatsu


It seems like I've always loved him, since even before I was born. Perhaps the gods, seeing my soul waiting to be thrust out into the world, decided that I would spend the rest of my life wanting what I could never have. Maybe some other time when I'm grey and bent I'll allow myself to feel for another, but as it has been for the past 16 years of my existence, I've only yearned for one person. I've watched as he was first starting out, a shy and hesitant singer, seemingly unsure of what he was doing, but meaning to world to the little boy glued to the TV screen. I've watched as he's transformed, becoming the world wide superstar he is now, playing God to millions of screaming fans and one little boy who watched him change and loved him still. 

****

Love Me

**_Chapter One_**

"_I thought I told you leave me…While I walked down to the beach…Tell me how does it feel_…" Tatsuha sighed as the screeching voice of the woman on stage belting out the words to an American rock song, and the loud pounding music joined forces to give him a headache. Looking down at the drink he held loosely in his hand, he absently swirled it with vague motions of his wrist, watching as the honey liquid came close to sloshing over the edge. For not the first time he wondered what he was doing there, in the smoky blaring karaoke bar. 

Being in Tokyo again, while it had its benefits, was decidedly boring when you didn't know anyone other than your brother and his boyfriend. The former being a pretentious jerk off and the latter, while fun, being unable to go an hour without uttering the word Yuki and zoning off into a near trance. Not that Tatsuha was complaining of course. Well, not too much at least. It was nice to be able to get out on his own for a while without his father breathing down his neck about family duties and Eiri's coldly impassive eyes vaguely concerned for his little brother. 

He'd found himself coming more and more often to this little karaoke bar at nights during the weeks he stayed with Eiri, enjoying the lived in atmosphere that the out of the way establishment provided. The food was decent, the music loud, the would-be singers grating, and the air smoke filled. All in all it was your decently average karaoke bar. Western-style karaoke bar that is.

Raising his drink to his lips, he took a sip, frowning slightly at the sweet taste of it. Briefly, Tatsuha wished that it was something alcoholic but knew that his brother would kill him if he came home drunk again, not to mention he wasn't even sure the bartender would give him something that strong. He'd been looking at Tatsuha suspiciously lately, and Tatsuha was nervous that he might be figuring out that he was only sixteen and not the nineteen-year-old he looked to be. 

Bored, he allowed his eyes to drift around the single room, trying to shut out the horrendous singing of the lady currently with the microphone. Despite the large absences in between his visits to Tokyo and this place, Tatsuha felt that he was one of the few regulars. The people that would come in would be sad and lonely, some with romantic troubles, others with family and so on. No one ever mentioned anything, their business was their own, but you could see it in their eyes, hear it when they sang to the cheesy American songs or the popular Japanese songs. They came in here to escape, be it through blaring music or ear bleeding vocals. 

Every time he returned from his time in Kyoto, and returned to this place, there would be new faces, new sorrows. In a way, Tatsuha felt rather like a councilor. He would come, listen to people pour their hearts out and leave feeling vaguely unappreciated and just a little bit more worn away. And still, he wondered why he continued to come. 

Shaking himself out of his self-constructed depression, Tatsuha smirked to himself. The way he was carrying on was making his life seem like hell, when in reality it was far from that. Sure he had to become a monk. His brother had changed from the caring older brother that Tatsuha had grown up with to a cold, impassive writing-machine. His older sister -bless her- was nosy and liked to butt into affairs that weren't hers. And he was utterly and totally obsessed with a totally and utterly famous pop star to the point where it hurt sometimes to think of it. Not to mention he was ridiculed because of his feelings. But other than that, it really wasn't all that bad. He had a place to stay and basically everything he wanted, barring anything too extravagant, thanks to his brother's famousness and wealth. 

Well, everything he wanted except for one thing. The one thing that he knew no amount of money and no amount of connections could get him. Sakuma Ryuichi. The one thing that Tatsuha had loved continuously since he was a little boy. His room was covered with Nittle Grasper merchandise, so that every time he looked around he could see the gorgeous blue eyes of Ryuichi. Sure it was a bit overboard, but Tatsuha didn't care. The other kids at school had mocked him for his obsession, calling him a dirty fag and other names, and Tatsuha did his best to ignore them. What did they know about love? The only person who's opinion he could have possibly cared about what they thought of it all was God himself, but Tatsuha severely doubted that Ryuichi would ever become little more than a dream to be creeped out by Tatsuha's obsession. 

Rolling his eyes as he realized he had just gone right back into his depressive thinking mode, Tatsuha allowed himself a smile as he watched the woman on stage finish her song. _::At least that's over::_ It wasn't that she was a bad singer, she was, but he was tired of that song. It was surprising how often it was sung. Leaning back against the counter behind him, he held his drink loosely in one hand, eyes near closed. _::So tired::_ Tatsuha thought, feeling a small burst of wind blow over him as someone sat down on the stool by him. He briefly considered striking a conversation with them, then decided against it. If it wasn't Ryuichi, he didn't want to talk to them. 

It was odd, sometimes, the way that Tatsuha could almost know what Ryuichi would do next or could tell how he was feeling. Well, at least that's how it seemed to him. Not like he'd ever get the chance to try out his theories. But every once in a while, it was just like there was some sort of connection between Tatsuha and the intense singer on the stage or the bouncy man-child from the television screen. Funny how, from watching everything that had to do with the god Sakuma Ryuichi and listening to the way that Shuichi talked about him, Tatsuha found that almost everything he had known about his god was misconceived and totally true at the same time. The world may never know the real Sakuma Ryuichi, but Tatsuha knew. Yes he knew, but whom could he tell? Who would believe him? 

Blinking, Tatsuha decided that he had had too much to drink, even if it was non alcoholic. He was becoming even more melancholy as the night wore on and that was most definitely what he didn't want. Eiri gave off enough angst for a small country and didn't need any help reaching his monthly quota of self-depreciation. 

He half turned in his seat, his arm reaching around to place the glass on the counter behind him when, at the same time, the man sitting next to him turned as well. Tatsuha gasped as the other man's elbow interacted with his glass and the cool liquid was sent flying towards him. He twisted his chest away from it, watching in slight horror as the glass landed on the ground with a loud, hollow thump and what was left of his drink land not long after it. Time seemed frozen as he felt the liquid soak into his pant leg and with slow trepidation looked down. It was as he had suspected. The drink had landed in a very bad, very personal, very embarrassing spot. Glancing over, he noticed that not only had he spilled his drink on himself, but he had also gotten some of it on the stranger. 

"Ah…I'm sorry…" Tatsuha apologized hesitantly as he could feel his cheeks heating up from embarrassment. Tonight just wasn't his night. The stranger said nothing, not moving at all, even when Tatsuha grabbed a handful of napkins and offered them to him. There was no way he was going to pat the stranger dry as he was discreetly trying to do to himself. That privilege was reserved only for Ryuichi, which meant that he would never get to do it. _::Why doesn't he take off his hat…?::_ Tatsuha thought, squirming uncomfortably under the intense stare of the man in front of him. _::I can't see his eyes…or his face::_ There was something…unnatural about the way that the stranger remained hidden, even in the semi-darkness of the karaoke bar. As if he didn't want to be seen or recognized. 

"Spill your drink?" The gruff voice of the bartender startled Tatsuha and he nearly jumped out of his chair. His hand came up instinctively to clutch his chest and he half turned towards the balding man on the other side of the counter. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the strange man with the hat on get up to leave and Tatsuha was tempted call him back and apologize some more. 

"Well?"

Oh, the bartender was still waiting for an answer. Whoops. As if it wasn't already obvious that, yes, he had spilled his drink. Nodding an affirmative to the man behind the counter, Tatsuha tried to push all thoughts of that strange man out of his head. _'There's just… something not right about wearing sunglasses in a dark building…'_ His pants were starting to dry, which was a good thing because he was running out of napkins, when he suddenly found a drink pushed his way. Startled, he looked at the fingers that still lingered on the frosted glass and stared. '_Those fingers… they look so familiar…'_ Following the smooth line of the fingers, Tatsuha stared past the wrist, ascending up the baggy sleeves and the high collared shirt and into the eyes of the mystery man from just a few minutes ago. Well, at least he was pretty sure they were the eyes. The man still had his sunglasses on. 

Falling. That was the only sensation that came to mind as Tatsuha remained motionless, captured by his own imagination. To him, it felt as though he knew this person, that he should recognize him, he should be able to see past the dark glasses and the disguising garments. See and acknowledge the man hidden in the depths. But no. He had never seen this person before. He hadn't even noticed when he had re-entered the room. All logical explanations pointed to an overactive teenage mind, but what was this feeling? This …sensation? 

A glass being shoved into his hand broke him from his trance and he looked down to see the drink there. The man's hand was already moving away, retreating back into his pocket. Tatsuha could only stare dumbly as he turned and walked out, head down, ignoring all the other patrons in the room. 

"What's the matter? You look like you just saw a ghost." Startled for what seemed the millionth time that night, Tatsuha looked at the bartender. 

"Who…was that guy?" He asked, trying his best to keep his voice steady. He took a cautious sip of the drink he was holding, for some reason not surprised when it turned out to be exactly what he was having before. 

"Eh? Oh him… he's a… regular. Comes in here at least once a week. Sorta like you. Funny huh? That you two haven't bumped into each other before tonight."

"Yeah… funny…" Tatsuha murmured, staring blankly out into the room. Something told him he should know that man and it was really starting to bug him. Tatsuha didn't like not knowing things and he would find out who that guy was even if he had to come here every night (for the rest of his stay here anyway) to do it. Besides, he had to pay him back for the drink.

TBC

Author's notes: Okay! So! Its uh… 4am right now and the room is starting to spin around me (no I'm NOT drunk) and I found this floating around on my hard drive just before I was about to go to sleep. This is at least a year old…x.x; and I know that its not very Tatsuha-ish… I dunno, kinda gives off a creepy stalker vibe to me? …but anyway…o_o; don't know what possessed me to post this (its really not one of my better works… like, at all) but my only excuse is that I was young and naïve when I wrote it… 

Don't kill the messenger?

…I love you?


End file.
